Or as my mom would say:
“You’ve been what now? Is this that evil computer thingamabob? You really should pick up a phone more and call me. I could be lying here dead in my rocking chair after having a heart attack while knitting your afghan. You know the one I’ve been working on for months in spite of my arthritic fingers. Oh how they hurt so! And this is all you care about? Freshly Pressed! I’ll give you Freshly Pressed! Jeezum crow! Where’s my friggin’ coffee?”
Not my mom, but pretty damn close.
Forgive me for writing a post about how I was Freshly Pressed, but I couldn’t help myself. It’s been an eternity since my last FP. Why, I can’t even remember how long ago! (2 years, 3 months, 4 days)
And to know a post about my cranky 80-year-old mother and her dark cutting edge humor would be featured up there on the…
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ugiridharaprasad 